What Is My Life Without You?
by loki laufeysons lucky number
Summary: Excuse: I was bored, and sick, so i wrote fanfiction. Basically, It's a Prince hal x Sherlock Holmes thing but set in modern times... i suck at summaries... any way, they were in love, and then they drifted apart, and suddenly, they are thrown back together again... Rated M because there might be smut later.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock presses a piece of cloth to the bullet wound on John's thigh. Everyone is silent; the only sound is john's laboured breathing.

"Call his father, Watson" Sherlock intones, and the other man nobs, holding John's mobile to his ear.

"It's gone through to answer machine. I can't exactly leave a message saying his son's been shot, can I?"

Sherlock shakes his head. Try his brother then. Should be under Hal or Harry or something. Quickly Watson!"

Watson scrolls through John's contacts, finds the one he wants, and calls.

"'lo John. Wazzup? "

There's music playing in the background, and the voice is cheerful, bright. Watson hesitates before jumping in at the deep end, spilling the news about John and the attack. There's a silence, Watson wonders whether he has fainted.

"I'll be right there. Tell him to hang on. I'll be right there." The cheerful tone is gone. He's serious now, and Watson is glad to hang up, job done.

Sherlock hears the roar of a motor bike and resists the temptation to laugh. It's the most stereotypical thing he's seen in a while. The young millionaire's son, the playboy, the biker, the wastrel, the party animal… so many ways to describe Henry Lancaster Jr, so little time.

He appears around the corner of the alley, his face contorted and pale with worry. How touching, thinks Sherlock, he stopped partying to come for his brother. How kind.

"What happened?" Hal demands, his blue eyes flashing with Fury.

"Who hell thinks they can do this to him?"

"The ambulance is on its way." Sherlock calmly replies.

"Who did this? What happened? I need to know, Holmes!" Sherlock is surprised at the use of his surname. He's surprised at how Hal's voice wavers, how he's struggling to hold it together. Watson feels sorry for him. Sherlock does not. He doesn't do compassion Not anymore. Not for Hal.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock remembers his previous run ins with Hal.

It happened at Oxford, as things do. It seems like an age ago, and when Sherlock thinks about it, he wonders why he doesn't hurt anymore. Maybe he does, and he just got used to the pain.

He was nursing a cappuccino in the cafeteria, and it was busy. He was lucky to have a table to himself, it seemed like the whole E block had decided to come down. It became obvious why soon enough. Hal Lancaster was there. The college celebrity. Everybody loved him, treated him like a super hero, when he was just a student majoring in law. It must have been his looks that did it for people, his golden curls, his flashing blue eyes and seductive figure. Or maybe it was his personality, his laugh, his wit. Anything. Sherlock didn't mind, he had never really even spoken to Hal, although there rooms were opposite each other. He was just another good looking guy that Sherlock had a teeny weeny little crush on.

Yes. Sherlock is bi. However weird that may seem.

He was horrified when Hal approached his table.

"Mind if I sit here? It's rather busy in here." Stating the obvious.

"Sure. Go ahead. I don't mind."

"I'm Hal, by the way. You probably knew that though." Someones a bit sure of himself.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sherlock. My room's just across from yours, y'know."

"Aha. That explains you being familiar. Hey, I'm going out tonight. Want to come? If you're not too busy, that is." As a matter of fact, I'm meeting my prospective girlfriend. But I'm not telling you that, Sherlock thinks.

"No, I'm not busy, and I'd love to come." Sherlock curses himself for gushing, and drains his coffee."

"I'll meet you at my room, at eight then. Glad you can come. You seem a little more level headed than the rest of my… friends… What do you major?"

"Forensics."

"I bet that's more fun than law."

"probably" they're heading back in the direction of their rooms now. There's a mob outside Hal's room and he groans. Sherlock bites back instinct, and shouts above the noise:

"Come to my room?!"

It's the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
